Day 3: Education, Community, and History in South Africa

Day 3 focused on education in South Africa, from the school system as a whole to community-based programs serving young children, youth, and adults.

On the bus ride, Darryl shared several things about South African schools and history. Students wear uniforms, which he said many South Africans value because uniforms help create a sense of equality. He also shared that he waited in line for four hours during South Africa’s first democratic election.

Our first visit was with the Catholic Institute of Education, where Mduduzi Qwabe spoke to us about the South African school system and the work of Catholic schools. We learned about the structure of schooling, public and independent schools, early childhood development, literacy challenges, restorative practices, and the Three-Stream Model, which includes academic, vocational, and occupational pathways.

One statistic that stood out was that 81% of Grade 4 students could not read for meaning in any language. We also heard about the “Thrive by Five” assessment, which showed that many young children were not thriving cognitively or physically by age five. Those numbers helped frame the rest of the day because both of our next visits focused heavily on early childhood education and community support.

Our next stop was New Schools of Hope in the Zama Zama informal settlement. The organization began as a Bible study group concerned about education and grew into a program that now serves children through multiple schools. Their work focuses on early childhood education, play-based learning, teacher development, nutrition, health care, sanitation, and community partnerships.

We learned that many of the children speak multiple home languages, and English is not always their first language. The school uses integrated, play-based learning, with new themes each week or every two weeks for the youngest children. One idea shared with us was that “talents are equally distributed, but opportunities are not.”

After learning about the program, we visited the children. We observed praise and worship, met some of the youngest children, and then spent time with the older children. Stations were set up for face painting and nail painting, and it was a simple but meaningful way to interact with them.

After lunch at Wonderboom Junction, we visited PEN in Pretoria. PEN stands for Participate, Envision, Navigate. The organization works with young children, youth, and adults experiencing homelessness. Their programs include Early Childhood Development support centers, youth programming, tutoring, meals, life skills, work readiness, and support for adults working toward stability.

We learned that PEN supports 8 Early Childhood Development centers, 227 daycares, 1,098 staff members, and more than 11,000 children. Their model focuses on helping people build long-term independence rather than only meeting immediate needs.

At PEN, we went into a large hall where students were gathered for a lesson. Darryl told us that seeing the students in that space was symbolic because when he was young, a hall like that would likely have been used for white students under very different circumstances. The lesson reviewed goal setting, child protection, bullying prevention, conflict resolution, and how to treat others.

After the lesson, the older students performed a dance. Then students with birthdays during Term 2 were recognized. Everyone sang, the students stood around three cakes, made a wish, and blew out the candles together. Before we left, one of the staff members proudly showed me their student art gallery.

As we were leaving, the children waved goodbye, and each of us was given a bar of handmade soap.

Our last stop was the Nelson Mandela Memorial at the Union Buildings in Pretoria. Many people were there taking photos, including graduation photos. One young woman named Felicia had just graduated from studying to become a teacher. When she found out we were teachers from the United States, she wanted a picture with us, and we wished her good luck as she begins her teaching career.

We also had a brief conversation with a man near the statue. He asked where we were from, and when we told him we were a group of teachers from the United States, he said, “But the World Cup is there! Why are you here?” We told him we were here to learn about South African culture and education. He smiled and seemed pleased with that answer.

Day 3 gave us a lot to think about. We learned about the structure of education in South Africa, but we also saw how schools and community programs are connected to much larger issues: poverty, language, safety, health care, employment, history, and belonging.

Day 2: First Impressions, Public Art, and Everyday Details

 After such a long travel day, Day 2 began with a buffet breakfast at the hotel, a short orientation, and then some free time to explore in small groups. Our group stayed close to Nelson Mandela Square and Michelangelo Plaza, which gave us a chance to take in the area without wandering too far from the hotel.

One of my favorite moments was seeing a group of young preschool boys gathered at the base of the statue for a picture. Here were these children standing at the feet of a figure whose life and legacy helped shape the world they are growing up in now.

As an art teacher, I was also drawn to all of the public art in the square. Around the plaza were large sculptural heads, some painted in bright colors and graphic patterns, and others made of open metal forms that allowed light, shadow, and the city itself to pass through them. They were beautiful, strange, bold, and impossible for me not to photograph from every angle.

The square itself was an interesting blend of memory, commerce, tourism, and everyday life. There were restaurants, shops, people taking photos, children on an outing, businesspeople walking through, and tourists like us trying to absorb everything at once. It was a reminder that history does not sit separately in a museum case. It lives in public spaces, in names, in statues, in conversations, and in the way people move around those places each day.

After walking around the square, we went into the mall and spent some time looking around a grocery store. The cereal aisle became a cultural comparison activity. Some brands were familiar, but the packaging, sizes, flavors, and combinations were different. We noticed smaller cereal boxes and serving sizes, and we also had a helpful employee talk with us about some of the brands.

I loved the Kellogg’s “Mash-Ups” box; it combined Corn Flakes, strawberry Rice Krispies, and Froot Loops into one cereal, which felt chaotic in the most colorful way. 

Later, we had tea with lunch, and enjoyed the small pause of that moment. The cup and saucer were patterned so beautifully, and after the busy morning of walking, looking, comparing, and taking pictures, sitting down with tea felt like a quiet reset.

That evening, we had dinner at Trumps Grillhouse and Butchery. One of our group asked our waitress what she would like our students to know about South Africa. She talked with us about how Africans look out for one another, support their communities, and like to give back. 

After dinner, we walked through Mandela Square at night to get back to our hotel. The same space felt completely different once the lights came on. 

Day 2 was not packed with formal site visits, but it gave me a memorable first layer of impressions: public art, everyday shopping, food, design, conversations, and the way history is woven into ordinary spaces. It reminded me that learning while traveling does not only happen during scheduled tours. Sometimes it happens in the cereal aisle, over a cup of tea, under a statue, or in a brief conversation at dinner.

Day 1: Leaving North Carolina and Arriving in South Africa

In the next few posts, I’ll be sharing about my experiences in South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Zambia. I was selected to participate in Go Global NC’s Global Teachers: Southern Africa 2026 program, a professional learning program for North Carolina educators. The purpose of the program is to help teachers develop a deeper understanding of southern Africa through direct experiences with history, culture, education, conservation, land use, development, and shared global challenges.

Throughout the program, I will be thinking about what I can bring back to my students and classroom, especially as a visual arts teacher. I am interested in paying attention to schools, public art, community spaces, murals, classroom environments, student work, symbols of identity, and the ways people and places communicate who they are. My hope is that this program will deepen my own understanding and eventually grow into lessons, projects, and conversations that help my students see the world, and their own place in it, with a wider lens.

This first post covers “Day 1,” our travel day: leaving North Carolina on June 23, flying through Newark, and arriving in Johannesburg on June 24.

On June 23, Jeff drove me to RDU. It was raining, and I was more nervous than I expected. Before I left home, I hugged both boys goodbye. I have traveled plenty in my life, so I can't really explain why I was so nervous, but by the time I got out of the car at the airport, I felt like I was about to board a roller coaster.

The first person I saw was Tyler, who recognized me from our Go Global group bio and called my name. I was immediately grateful because, in my state of anxiety, it probably would have taken me ten minutes to read the directions and figure out how to attach the luggage tag to my checked bag. Tyler had it done in less than a minute.

Our group leaving from RDU had a little trouble getting started. Because of weather, our flight was delayed a couple of hours. At one point, we even had to deplane and then board again, which added a little extra stress since we still had an international connection waiting for us in Newark. Thankfully, everything worked out. Once we arrived in Newark, we met up with the rest of our group, including those who had flown from Charlotte.

From Newark, we boarded a United Dreamliner for Johannesburg. The flight was about fifteen hours. We boarded around 9:00 p.m. on June 23, ate dinner, and I went to sleep soon after. When I woke up, it was daylight on June 24. I slept on and off, stared at the flight map, and before I knew it, we were watching the sun set again.

One of the most beautiful moments of the flight was looking out the window as we flew over the Namib Desert. From above, the land looked almost unreal, full of lines, textures, and ridges with no visible signs of human disturbance.

We landed in Johannesburg around 6:30 p.m. on June 24 and made it through customs fairly easily. After collecting our luggage, our whole group gathered in the airport: tired, relieved, and officially here.

Our guide, Darryl, met us at the airport, along with our bus driver, whose name was Nkululeko, to the best of my spelling ability. On the ride to our hotel, Darryl began introducing us to Johannesburg. He explained that the airport is outside the city and spoke honestly about some of the realities here, including deep inequality and high unemployment. He also talked about language, currency, religious diversity, and the importance of greeting people warmly before getting down to business.

One idea he shared that stayed with me was Ubuntu, a South African moral philosophy rooted in shared humanity and connectedness. It is often described as “I am because we are.” As I continue to think about that idea, I want to keep listening for it throughout this program: in schools, in conversations, in hospitality, in history, and in the way people care for one another.

We are staying at the Garden Court in Johannesburg's financial district. After we arrived, my roommate and I got settled, put away our luggage, and headed downstairs for dinner with a few members of our group. I ordered three mini cheeseburgers, a bottle of water, and a glass of wine, and the whole meal was 230 Rand, about $14.

By the end of the night, I was exhausted, but grateful. Day 1 was mostly airports, delays, long flights, and luggage, but it was also the beginning of a bigger learning experience. We left North Carolina carrying our usual pace and assumptions. We arrived in South Africa ready to slow down, listen, and learn.

Celebrating Student Work from Unit 4: Space

I’m really proud of the work my students created at the end of our Unit 4: Space - Achieving Depth on a 2D Surface.

This was a big learning curve for many of them. We started with the basics of how artists create the illusion of space. We worked through linear perspective, shading, and aerial perspective in small steps. From boxes to cityscapes to interiors, they slowly built the skills they needed.

Link to Unit Plan: Unit 4: Space - Achieving Depth on a 2-dimensional surface

Link to Project: Beyond the Horizon: A Landscape Project

Sketchbox Review: April 2026

April 2026 box review: matte-ink on kraft paper

The Pentel Mattehop gel pens are ridiculously satisfying. The color is bold, super opaque, and lays down with that flat, velvety finish that makes every mark feel intentional. I used them for the cupcake frosting and loved how graphic and punchy they looked against the Legion Stonehenge kraft paper.

The Uni Signo Broad White gel pen absolutely stole the show for me. That thick white line over the toned surface? So good. It gave me those crisp highlights and scratchy little accents that make a sketch feel alive.

I also loved having the Vintage Camel Yellow Sarasa Clip pen in the mix. It’s subtle, warm, kind of nostalgic, and worked especially well for lighter accents and texture without shouting over everything else.

The Stonehenge Kraft paper tied it all together. I let a lot of the paper color show through in my drawing, and I really liked leaning into that. The toned surface did so much of the work for me, making the bright pens and white highlights pop without needing to fill every inch.

I’ve seen other artists use these kinds of pens by layering and layering, allowing the colors to mix, and it looks beautiful. I admire it. I support it. I cannot emotionally handle getting pink ink on the rollerball of my white gel pen. Here's a link so you can enjoy that as well: 

https://www.instagram.com/p/DWeh7SYjsoo/

Overall: a really satisfying box with materials that played well together.

 

A Simple Way to Teach Art History (Without Starting from Scratch)

Teaching art history can feel like a lot to piece together: slide presentations, notes, artists, assessments, and trying to make it all feel connected for students.

I’ve been working on a set of 90-minute art history lessons that I use in my own classroom, and I recently packaged everything into one place. It covers 12 major movements from the Renaissance to Pop Art, and follows a consistent structure so students know what to expect each time.

Each lesson includes:

• Learning targets, essential questions, and vocabulary
• Guided notes + slide support
• A short video or EdPuzzle 
• A quick “Memory Builder” quiz
• Options for discussion and assessment

I have also added a comparison chart + student worksheet + review activity to help students see how everything connects across movements.

The goal was to make something that could work in a lot of different situations:

• Art history days
• Sub plans
• Integrated studio units
• Or even as a mini-course

If you’re looking for a way to make art history feel more structured (and a little less overwhelming), you can check it out here: Art History Curriculum on TPT

If you try it, I’d love to hear how you use it in your classroom.

The Art 1 Course I wish I had when I Started Teaching High School (in 2009)

I started teaching high school art in 2009, and if there’s one thing I can say with confidence, it’s this: my Beginning Art class has not stayed the same. Not even close.

It has been revised, rebuilt, tweaked, scrapped, resurrected, and occasionally held together with duct tape and vibes. Which, honestly, feels pretty accurate for teaching in general.

When I first started, I taught linear perspective one line at a time. On the whiteboard. With a yardstick. I’d draw a line, turn around, and half the class was already lost while the other half was painfully bored. Then I’d sprint around the room trying to catch mistakes before they became permanent. It took forever. And it was exhausting.

Then came the document camera. That felt revolutionary at the time. I could zoom in. I could use a ruler instead of a yardstick. I could demonstrate more clearly. But it was still setting the pace, and students were still stuck waiting if they didn’t get it the first time.

Later, I found YouTube videos, and that helped a lot. Students could pause and rewind, which was huge. But that also meant remembering to reserve the laptop cart, hoping all the devices worked, and praying the Wi-Fi behaved.

Now, finally, we’re 1:1 with devices. And instead of hunting for the right video, I make my own.

Not because I wanted to be on camera, but because after teaching this course for so long, I know exactly where students get stuck.

I know the back edge of their box will not always be parallel to the front.
I know their ruler will slip halfway through a long line.
I know they’ll forget to line their windows up to the vanishing point.

So now I show them how to pivot the ruler with their pencil, how to line up vanishing points quickly, and how to work smarter instead of slower. The videos are short, targeted, and built around the mistakes I’ve watched students make for over a decade.

What’s interesting is that while how I teach has changed dramatically, the core structure of my class really hasn’t.

Everything is grounded in the elements of art and principles of design. Every unit connects back to those foundations. I intentionally include artists from different cultures, backgrounds, and time periods throughout the course, not as an add-on, but as part of the fabric of the learning.

At the very beginning of the year, I ask students to adopt a new mindset: art is a skill. Just like math. Just like writing. It can be taught, practiced, and improved.

We look at Lowenfeld’s stages of artistic development, and students identify where they think they are and where they're going. We talk about schemas, why we rely on them, and why we sometimes have to ditch the schema to draw what we actually see rather than what we think we see.

That conversation alone changes everything.

When I first started teaching, a premade art curriculum was unheard of. In many districts, it still is. And in some ways, that freedom is one of the best parts of being an art teacher. We get to design our classes around our interests, our students, and our communities.

But the flip side of that freedom is how overwhelming it can be, especially at the beginning. Our standards are incredibly broad. There are countless valid ways to teach the same content, and when you’re new, that can feel paralyzing. I remember wishing I had something to start from - not a script or something rigid, just a solid foundation I could build on and revise as I figured things out.

I can’t even fathom where I might be now if something like this had existed when I was just getting started.

Over the years, through a lot of trial and error, I’ve developed a course I’m really proud of. And I continue to tweak it year after year as my students change and technology evolves.

So, Why Am I Sharing All of This?

Because I believe deeply in sharing with other teachers. Some of the best ideas I’ve ever had came from conversations in hallways, conference sessions, or late-night scrolling through what other art teachers were doing. Our profession is better when we learn from one another.

At the same time, I also believe that teachers’ work has value. This course didn’t come together overnight. It represents countless hours outside of the school day... planning, revising, filming, reworking rubrics, and adjusting lessons year after year based on what actually worked for students. Like many teachers, I built this mostly at home, on my own time.

And as a first-year teacher, I would have happily paid for something like this. Even though I shouldn’t have had to. Even though schools should provide this kind of support. Having a solid starting point would have saved me so much time, stress, and second-guessing.

My hope is that teachers who are interested have access to a professional budget they can use, or feel comfortable sharing this with their department or district so it can be purchased using instructional funds. This kind of resource is meant to support teachers, not add to their workload.

So I’ve packaged my entire Art 1 curriculum exactly as I use it in my own classroom, with an option that includes the full course already built in Canvas. Every unit. Every assignment. Every rubric. Organized, editable, and ready to use.

Not because I think everyone should teach exactly like I do, but because I know how powerful it is to start from something solid and make it your own.

Just something I wish I had when I was standing at a whiteboard in 2009, holding a yardstick, wondering why this felt so hard.

If you’re interested, you can find my course linked below:

• Beginning Art (Art 1) – Full Year Curriculum

• Beginning Art (Art 1) – Full Curriculum + Pre-Built Canvas Course

Portraits and the Power of Process

Some art projects are pretty universal.
If I say the words "portrait" and "grid," most art teachers immediately know what I'm talking about.

Many of us experienced it as students.

Most of us have taught some version of it.

And yet, over time, I’ve learned that how we teach this classic project has a tremendous impact on the learning that takes place and the success our students experience.

A Familiar Project, Revisited

The gridded portrait is often a turning point for students. It’s usually the moment when accuracy, patience, and trust in the process really start to click, or don’t.

When I first taught this unit, I did what I think a lot of us do:

• Teach facial proportions

• Jump into the grid

• Push through to the final portrait

Some students succeeded.

Some students struggled quietly.

Some rushed.

Some froze.

Some didn't pay any attention to the grid.

Over the years, I’ve revised this unit again and again, adding pieces, removing others, and slowing things down where it matters most.

What emerged is a version of the portrait unit that feels more supportive, more flexible, and more meaningful for students at every skill level.

One of the biggest shifts I made was separating skill-building from the final product.

Before students start their final portrait, they practice:

• Facial proportions

• Individual features (eyes, noses, mouths, ears)

• Hair as form first, texture second

• Shading skin using value / not outlines

This gives students space to experiment without pressure. Mistakes feel instructional instead of discouraging.

By the time we introduce the grid, students already have confidence with observation and proportion. The grid becomes a tool, not a crutch.

In this unit, students work through:

• Scrambled grids (multiple difficulty levels)

• Standard grid practice

• Grid setup and transfer

The goal isn’t perfection.

The goal is accuracy through focus.

For many students, especially those who believe they “can’t draw,” this is the moment where something shifts. They realize they can be precise. They can slow down. They can improve.

The Critique That Sticks

At the end of the unit, students step back from their own work and look closely at the work of Narsiso Martinez.

This is consistently one of the most memorable parts of the unit.

Through his portraits of farmworkers, drawn on discarded produce boxes, students begin to see how:

• Materials carry meaning

• Process reflects lived experience

• Subject matter can communicate identity, labor, and value

What’s especially powerful is how long this lesson lasts.

Even several courses later, when students reach my AP classes, I can say his name, and they remember. They remember how materials, processes, and ideas can be synthesized into a single artwork with purpose.

A Unit That Grows With You

This portrait unit didn’t come together all at once. It’s the result of years of revision - watching students work, listening to where they struggle, and adjusting the structure to support real growth.

It’s still the classic portrait project we all recognize.

It’s just structured in a way that, over years of trial and error, I've found yields a high success rate with students. 

If you’re interested in seeing how this unit is structured, from skill-building to grid work to critique, you can find the full resource linked below.

Link to Unit 7: Portraiture & Grid Drawing on Teachers Pay Teachers

As always, take what works for you, adapt what you need, and make it your own. That’s how the best versions of these “classic” projects continue to evolve.

A Process for Teaching Conceptual Thinking Through Color Media

"First in Flight"

Students often master realism before they’re ready to wrestle with meaning, and bridging that gap takes intention. Helping students become conceptual can mean slowing them down long enough to ask ‘why’ after they’ve already figured out ‘how.’

Many of my Intermediate (Art 2) students love realism. They enjoy the challenge of drawing accurately, rendering carefully, and making something that looks “right," and that’s a great place to start. But getting them to move beyond copying a photo and into communicating an idea? That can be a struggle.

This project was designed as a gentle bridge.

In Nothing Exists in Isolation, students begin with something comfortable: a single object rendered as realistically as possible using color media. But we add a twist. Instead of leaving the object floating on white space, they design a background that adds meaning. The object doesn’t change, but its context does, and suddenly students are thinking about environments, systems, memories, emotions, and ideas.

What I’ve found is that this feels like a manageable first step into conceptual thinking. Students aren’t asked to abandon realism; they’re asked to build on it.

The real work happens during planning. The brainstorming activity scaffolds the thought process in a way that feels doable rather than overwhelming. Students explore obvious connections first, then push themselves toward less literal, more interesting ideas. They learn concrete strategies for being creative instead of being told to “just think harder.”

By the time students start working on their final pieces, their choices feel intentional. The background isn’t decoration; it’s shaping how the object is understood.

Some students lean symbolic. Some go narrative. Some surprise themselves entirely.

This project has led to some rich conversations about meaning, choice, and how artists communicate visually without spelling everything out.

If you’re looking for a way to help students take that next step, from technical skill to thoughtful, concept-driven work, this has been a really effective (and enjoyable) place to start.

This project, Nothing Exists in Isolation, is available in my Teachers Pay Teachers Store. 

Chromatic Cravings: Teaching Color Through What Students Love

Color theory can be one of those topics that sounds straightforward but feels abstract to students until they actually start mixing paint. Over the years, I’ve learned that students understand color best when they’re solving real visual problems, not filling out color wheels for the sake of it. For years, I've worked to develop strategies that encourage students to engage in the thinking and trial-and-error experimentation needed to truly understand color mixing. 

That’s where my project Chromatic Cravings came from.

This unit asks students to slow down, look closely, and mix every color they need using only the primary colors, white, and black. No shortcuts. No premixed browns. Just observation, experimentation, and a lot of decision-making.

The twist? Their reference images are close-up photos of candy and snacks - subjects that are familiar, visually rich, and surprisingly complex when you really look at them.

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Why Candy Works 

At first glance, candy seems simple. But once students begin painting, they quickly realize how much is going on:

• subtle shifts in value

• warm and cool versions of brown

• reflected color in wrappers

• highlights that aren’t actually white

• neutrals with a wide range of color shift

Chocolate, especially, becomes a crash course in mixing believable neutrals. Students painting chocolate almost always end up mixing neutrals early in the process - usually within the first few days,  which leads to great conversations about value, intensity, and color temperature.

Process Over Perfection

One thing I love about this unit is that it naturally supports different pacing. Students aren’t all doing the same thing at the same time, and that’s okay.

Some students:

• spend days refining an underpainting

• remix the same color five times before committing

• need demos on blending or texture at different moments

Instead of locking students into a rigid daily schedule, I provide targeted demo videos and invite students to join them when they need them. This makes the studio feel more responsive and less rushed.

Building Real Skills 

By the end of the unit, students can clearly articulate:

• how they adjusted value and intensity

• why certain neutrals worked better than others

• how layering improved realism

• what they would change if they did it again

Their artist statements reflect real understanding, not memorized vocabulary.

And just as importantly, students leave with confidence. They realize they don’t need a shelf full of paint colors to be successful. They can mix what they need.

A Flexible Unit That Grows With You

This project has evolved over time as I’ve added:

• image selection options (teacher-provided, student-photographed, copyright-free sources)

• digital tools like the eyedropper for color analysis

• more structured reflection and critique

• clearer scaffolding for students who need it

What started as a painting project has become a complete color unit that works well for traditional, block, or blended classrooms.

Final Thoughts

Color theory doesn’t have to feel abstract or disconnected from studio work. When students are invested in what they’re painting, and when they’re given the tools to really see, the learning sticks and can even be applied to other color media.

If you’d like to try something like this with your own students, I’ve shared the full Chromatic Cravings unit (lessons, materials, demos, and assessments) in my Teachers Pay Teachers store. Feel free to take a look to see if it’s something that may work in your classroom.